Yep. $409,220.50 USD. That is how much Andy’s care over the course of 2019 would have cost us if we didn’t have insurance. It is completely insane to think about. I remember being SO mad at our decision to go for the high deductible plan through work back when all this started. It seemed like such an awful decision at the time, but, looking back? Oh man. I am SO grateful for our insurance! Sure. We’re still fighting with them and filing appeals about the $40k number up there under “Patient Responsibility,” and, sure, $40k is a HUGE number. But you know what an even larger number is? $409k!! Holy hell! This year, we put my husband on his own insurance plan. The deductible is only $2k and the out of pocket max is only $3500. This is MUSIC to my ears as we continue to struggle with the $12.5k out of pocket max from last year — not counting the co-pays for chemo, specialists visits, oncologist visits, ER visits … I could go on, but I won’t. I know we’re blessed, and Andy is doing so well!

But as we closed out 2019, I started wondering what 2020 was going to bring us? I’ve been so focused on getting through all this awful chemo that I had not really considered what would happen after its all over. From then on out, it’s basically a waiting game.

I hate waiting.

We are supposed to just move on. Go about living our lives as if everything is fine and like none of this ever happened. And as enticing as that seems, as much as I long for some normalcy and schedules that aren’t constantly in flux — how does one just forget that all this happened? Andy will have a CT scan every 3 months for the first 2 years after treatment and his tumor markers will be checked too. But I don’t trust scans as far as I can throw them and Andy’s tumor markers have basically always been relatively normal, even when the cancer was raging in his body … the tumor markers remained normal. Speaking of tumor markers, Andy’s were recently checked and they came back, not surprisingly, normal.

• CEA: 1.4 (same as last time, normal is 3 or below)
• CA 125: 8.8 (this is 1pt lower than last time, normal is 30 or below)

I’m afraid that there is nothing that we’ll be able use as a good diagnostic tool for this cancer as it does not trigger any of the “normal” ways to check for recurrence. Since the tumors themselves produce a clear mucus substance (which is INVISIBLE, because its CLEAR) it cannot be seen on a scans, and blood work for tumor markers is unreliable at best. I’ve had this doubt from the very get-go with this journey, and now here we are, and it’s all becoming real.

But I have to breathe.

Maybe it will be good to just forget all this happened for a bit, I mean, at least until our first scan. lol Maybe we’ll get lucky (lucky … not the right word here, but) and Andy will need surgery for a bowel obstruction once a year, and we’ll be able to get the surgeons confirmation that the cancer is not back. Honestly, that is the only way I will actually believe that he is truly in remission. And we know, as of this moment, that the cancer is NOT there, so after these final 4 chemo sessions, he will be in remission! That is a HUGE relief and an amazing testament to my husbands resilience and strength. To OUR resilience and strength as a couple in that we did not kill each other during this whole ordeal! But I can’t be mad at it. My husband and I were talking the other day and he said something that caught me a bit off guard. He said that he thought this cancer actually brought us closer together. I stood there, looking puzzled when he said that. I mean, nothing like a good life or death situation to really force you to prioritize your relationship over everything else. So I sat back and really thought about it. And in the grand scheme of things, in between our massive drop down, blow out arguments and constant bickering, we did learn a lot about each other. Things we likely would never have learned any other way. We learned a lot about ourselves and how much we could withstand and handle. We were forced to analyze and dive deeper into our relationship than either of us probably ever wanted to, and while this surfaced quite a few problems that were deeply hidden, I am so glad they were uncovered. It forced us to work through them and understand the others perspective and try to accept what we couldn’t understand (I still have problems with this!! lol) even if we didn’t like it. And now that we are near the end of this, I am actually grateful for the journey.

My husband and I are closer today than we might ever have been. I feel proud of him and his accomplishments, not just with this cancer fight, but with his everyday life! I want to enthusiastically encourage him to do the things he has planned this summer, such as getting his strength back and being more mindful of his time with family. I am, after all, his biggest cheerleader and I will always be there for him for as long as he’ll have me and accept my help.